


Poor Unfashionable Souls

by telethia



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Bisexual Adrien Agreste, F/F, F/M, I mean adrien is friggin cross-dressing what would you expect, M/M, aka adrien agreste is NOT afraid of skirts, he has a lot of fun at it, mild sexual humour, plus! he's helping a friend along the way too!, princess jellyfish AU, sexuality is kind of explored through here as well, so yeah who said that Adrien can't cross-dress?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-09-22 07:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9591716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telethia/pseuds/telethia
Summary: Finding Adrien wearing a skirt and makeup and chatting with her mother was surely something that Marinette  was not expecting on a Saturday afternoon.[in which Marinette desperately needs a female model and Adrien comes to the rescue]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written entirely for comedic purposes and is not to be interpreted as a real depiction of the themes that it presents. I am also not a native English speaker, so please keep that in mind during your read.
> 
> I hope you enjoy something lighthearted and fun!

Marinette’s day started as usual, with her feet tripping over one another as she jumped down the stairs from her bedroom and headed frantically towards the door. She once again resumed her morning routine, which consisted in barely dodging running cars as she threw herself onto the streets not to be late, and arriving in front of her school with her lungs screaming for help.

Her blue eyes crossed her friend Alya’s, who was eyeing her with pleased surprise in the school’s yard, and she sent a mental blessing at the fact that she had for once managed to get there _before_ class. Marinette allowed herself to relax, her and the other girl slowly approaching one another, and recomposed herself a bit. She checked her hair, running her fingers to the ends of her black pigtails to make sure that they were still in place and straightened her clothes, while silently praying to have remembered to put deodorant on.

Mornings were not Marinette’s best friends: considering her wild nights as the Parisian superhero Ladybug, the start of the day was the time in which her brain completely gave up on her, making Marinette even more dumb and clumsier than she already was.

Alya’s brown eyes were wide and her lips were pressed into a thin line. That face was something Marinette was used to as her best friend; it was the expression she made when she had something that she thought of as exciting or important to tell her. Knowing Alya, Marinette wouldn’t even have the chance to open her mouth before she would start her little rant.

She tried to greet her anyways.

“‘Morning! How are y-”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good, the usual. Doesn’t matter right now.” Alya interrupted her, just as predicted, cutting her short. “I got important news, Mari. _Very_ important news.”

“Oh,” Marinette felt her throat tense up. She didn’t know whether to be worried for her life or if to actually be excited. The result of her inner confusion was an awkward smile. “Really? What kind of news?”

“The kind that you should be jumping out of a window for how happy you are or, alternatively, bow down to me and kiss my feet for the rest of the school year.” Alya smirked, which frightened her friend to no end. “This is just _that_ good.”

Had Marinette mentioned that her civilian life was one heck of a mess just as her superhero one was, and that keeping one from the other was her top priority? She was kind of trying not to show her friend how her _amazing news_ could be linked to a way to just unleash complete chaos in her life by just, well, unmasking her. Alya was one of her major sources of stress with her ideas on how to ‘reveal Ladybug’s identity’ or ‘get Ladybug to confess her civilian address so that she could get a private interview.’ There were times in which Marinette was afraid of every word that came out of her mouth, terrified that her friend had somehow figured out the connection between her and her superhero persona.

Of course, there were also times in which Alya only focused on getting her set up with her crush, Adrien Agreste. Those days were just as awful.

“There is a competition in around two months or so,” Alya took her stressed silence as a clue to continue with her short monologue. “And it’s a fashion competition.”

Relief washed over Marinette, and then excitement kicked in. Alya didn’t miss the sparkle in her blue eyes.

“Got your interest, didn’t I? Well, this thing is really awesome if you ask me, and I think it would be pretty awesome for you to participate. If you win you get selected for a future scholarship at a couple of fashion schools here in Paris and a free ticket to the Milan fashion week next year.”

“WHAT?” Marinette jumped on the spot, hands gripping tightly on her bag. “Alya, where did you find this?! How do I sign up for it?!”

A couple of people turned towards her, eyeing her with either amusement or confusion, but she didn’t care. She knew she was being childish but.. Could she really blame herself for being excited for something that could be described as her dream turned into reality? She had always loved fashion, and winning such a competition could have given her a future in the world she admired so much. Plus, it was not like she could actually imagine herself walking in the Milan Fashion Week, alongside influential stylists and models, without a recommendation of the kind she could get if she won; even if she somehow managed to get a career in fashion, there was no guarantee she would ever have the chance to go there.

“It’s all over the internet,” Alya was grinning now. “And you can sign up on this website right here!”

The girl took her phone out, handling it to Marinette, who almost made it slip out of her hands for how happy and excited she was.

She looked at the web page, reading its content: the competition was called _Fabricate Your Future_ , and was a collaboration between many big names of the Parisian fashion industry, Gabriel Incorporated included. A portfolio was required for the first selection, taking place in exactly two months time, as well as some professional photos of some finished designs on a model. The website didn’t give any more information regarding the following stage of the competition, and said that the ones that were qualified for it would receive information directly from the admission team.

“Oh my god,” Marinette struggled to get her words out. A high-pitched laugh escaped her mouth, something that sounded overly-excited and that made Alya melt because of how cute it was. “This is amazing! It’s everything I could ever want and… I can’t believe this is actually real!” The girl threw herself in Alya’s arms, hugging her tightly and never ceasing to smile. Suddenly she stiffened, pulling away from her with a doubtful look. “But I will never make it.”

Alya blinked at her friend, taken by surprise. “Wait, what? What do you mean _you will never make it?”_

“I just…” Marinette put some distance between her and the other teen, holding her left arm and not daring to meet the other’s eyes. “I mean what I said. I’m not good enough. This competition is a big deal, and I don’t think… I’m just not competent enough to have any chance of even passing the first round. I don’t want to sign up for something I know I will lose, it’s better to just not try at all and spare myself from the disappointment.”

A wave of sadness, anger, and confusion passed through Alya’s eyes, all in the matter of a second. She inhaled sharply, only to immediately exhale and bring her hands to her hips. “Marinette,” her tone was the one of a leader, someone who was not going to allow anyone to discuss her words. “Do not, and I repeat, _do not_ give me that bullshit. You are talented, creative, and brilliant, and I will not let you lose this opportunity because of your insecurity complex or whatever.” She raised an eyebrow, head tilting to the side confidently. “It’s not happening under my watch.”

“Alya,” Marinette tried to complain. “You say that because you are my friend. I am nowhere near being good enough to be judged by the heads of the best fashion brands, I have still so much to learn and I just… I don’t want to do this if I know that I’m going to lose.”

“Okay, first of all; thank you so much for thinking so little of my judgement, it means a lot to me, really.” The sarcasm in her voice was as strong as her annoyance, but Marinette could tell she had good intentions. “Secondly: have you forgotten you won a competition of this kind before? Because I do. It was the one about the pigeon hat that almost made Adrien have a quick trip to the hospital. Oh, and since we are mentioning Mr. Blondie, don’t you remember that even _he_ complimented your work? The son of Gabriel Agreste, the man that you idolise so much? I mean, the boy is no fashion designer or whatever, but he has been living, breathing fashion for all of his life. That _has_ to mean something.”

Marinette just stared at her friend, biting her lower lip. It wasn’t like Alya was wrong, she was well aware of all the things that her friend had just listed, but she still somehow felt as if everything she had done until now was worthless. She could not think of herself as being good enough, that was a concept that seemed distant, impossible to reach.

“Listen,” the other continued, calmer now. “I’m not saying you are going to win. I can’t know that. I just think that you have a solid chance and that you should give it a try, okay?”

She still was unsure, and Alya knew that. Before she could react, the aspiring journalist grabbed her by her shoulders, forcing her to look straight in her eyes as she talked to her.

“Mari, I know you. You would regret not giving this a chance. Don’t let your insecurity stop you from getting one step closer to your dream.”

She was being given a certain look she wasn’t capable of saying no to, she realised. Alya could have told her that it was raining cauliflowers and she would have believed her, had she been looking at her with those big, sincere eyes of hers. What she said made sense and really, she had nothing to lose.

She had bravely fought akumas even when the odds were against her, she couldn’t let her lack of confidence affect her this hard; it would not be fair to herself and to the people who believed in her and that would cheer her on. She couldn’t be so selfish.

“You are right.” She hugged her friend, obtaining a satisfied giggle in response. “I won’t let this opportunity slip away from me! I will do everything I can to at least pass the first selection!”

“That’s my girl! And I will be there to help you! Speaking of help,” Alya glanced behind Marinette, and started to wave her hand to someone she couldn’t see. “Hey there, Blonde Boy! Come here, we’ve got something to ask you!”

Marinette’s blood froze in her veins. She didn’t need to turn around to see who was coming, Alya’s mischievous smile already told her everything she needed to know. Before she could do anything, the perfect golden hair of Adrien Agreste entered her field of vision, the boy casually standing beside her.

“Hey,” he greeted with the warmest, kindest smile one could ever imagine on the face of a somehow de-aged Greek god. “How can I help you?”

Alya shot her a threatening and yet subtle glare, something that was supposed to deliver a message along the lines of _‘come on, speak up, he’s your crush AND could be a huge help for the competition,”_ to which Marinette tried to answer back, with her neural paralysis: _‘I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this- oh god, I can’t do this.’_

It took a quiet cough from the blond for Alya to stir into action, grabbing her friend by her shoulders and positioning her beside her, facing in this way the boy.

“Marinette here,” she gestured to her. “Is planning on participating on your father’s competition. You know, the one in two months?”

Adrien - bless his soul really - didn’t pay much attention to Marinette’s rigid smile, and caught up with the journalist rather quickly, excitement showing through his big, beautiful green eyes.

“Really?” he turned briefly to Marinette, smiling brightly at her. “Marinette, I’m so glad you are doing this! You have such good chances to win and I’m a big fan of your work, I’m sure you will pass the selection!”

Amazing, now even Adrien Agreste was part of Alya’s very own cheerleader squad, which meant he was someone else that she could possibly disappoint with failing. Marinette’s list of anxiety causes was alarmingly getting longer and longer with every minute, and she knew that she could not handle it. She just stared at him, trying her best not to get lost in his eyes or the candid whiteness of his perfect teeth.

“Y-you thanks. I m-mean, thank you.”

Once again, Alya burst in, saving her _‘sorry, glittery ass,’_ as she would have called it. “Yeah, so… You know how you need to take professional photos of finished designs?”

The boy nodded.

“Well, Marinette kind of hoped you could help her with that. You see, I’m an aspiring journalist and all and I take pictures all the time for the Ladyblog, but I know nothing of modeling and I sure as hell can’t do any sort of professional photo shoots.”

“Yeah, I get it. It can get really complicated.” Adrien’s giggle sounded heavenly to Marinette’s ears. “I’d be glad to help. I could model for you, I don’t think my father would mind, and I could ask a couple of really good female models I know to help you out as well.” He winked at them both. “It’d be good to have both female and male designs, it would really impress the judges in my opinion. It would show that you are versatile and that you can take on challenges.”

“That would be just perfect! And the idea of female and male designs is just genius!” Alya clapped her hands, bringing his attention on her once again and avoiding Adrien to actually notice Marinette’s drooling mouth. The bell rang, startling the teens. “Would you mind giving me your phone so that I can write Mari’s number on it and you two can discuss the matter this afternoon or something?”

“Sure!” Adrien shrugged as he handled the device to her. He waited patiently for Alya to be done, and then waved to both girls. “I’ll head to class now. I’ll talk to you later, okay Marinette?”

She tried to answer him. Really, she did, but the only thing that came out of her mouth were incomprehensible gurgling noises. Alya decided that she was having none of that, and pinched her.

She screamed loud enough for every person in the school courtyard to hear her.

“YES!”

Marinette wanted to dig a deep, deep hole underground and bury herself in it and not see the sunshine ever again.

* * *

Alya had threatened that she would find and personally give her a painful death if she tried to flee the country, so Marinette limited herself to nervously tap her foot on the ground as she waited for Adrien at the café he had told her to meet him at.

He had texted her during lunch, thing that had almost made her choke on her food and greatly concerned her mother, saying that he had arranged a meeting with a model he was good friends with that afternoon, just after his photo shoot.

_Adrien ♥♥: Hey :) I talked with a couple of people and a friend would like to meet you this afternoon! Would that be okay with you?_

Marinette had taken a solid five minutes to answer him between her freaking out and her shaking fingers, only to find that she was able to stutter even via text.

_Me: Eyah, I’d be hppy to do that!_

_Adrien ♥♥: Cool! ^ ^ I’m sorry I could only find one, the others are all too busy with work with all the new collections coming up. But this one is really good, I swear, and is also really nice! I’m sure you’ll work really well together!_

_Me: M sure of it too! cAN’t wait!_

Whilst she had never wanted to end her life as much as during that lunch period, she still complimented herself for having had a ‘conversation’ with Adrien and having actually achieved something out of it. His idea of having both male and female designs was brilliant and exciting: she couldn’t wait to get to work on some of the ideas that had been running through her head for the past hours, and having Adrien to model for her was a dream come true.

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw two figures approach her; she recognised the taller one as Adrien, and identified the slender figure beside him as the model friend he had told her about. Her black, curly hair reached her hips, and Marinette stared with awe at how good her chocolate features looked against her delicate, white sundress. She was wearing make-up, her glossy lips turned into a shade of light purple. Her beauty struck her, as well as her simplicity and glamour.

Her eyes finally met Adrien’s, and her heart _stopped._

He wasn’t in his simple usual attire: he was wearing black, tight jeans and and a grey v-neck T-shirt, with a dark blue shirt hanging from his waist. His hair was pulled back, golden locks hiding underneath a small beanie. His skin was somehow glowing, radiating light on its own, and his eyelashes seemed somehow longer and darker. As he got closer to her, her eyes fell on his collarbone and neck, which were usually covered, and her mind came up with a simple, straight forward conclusion.

Adrien Agreste was too hot to be legal.

He smiled at her, finally reaching her. “Hey, sorry if we are a little late. We were having a shoot closeby and it took a little longer than expected.” He scratched the back of his head.  “We are kinda skipped the whole ‘take-your-clothes-and-makeup-off’ part, so we should go back pretty soon if you don’t mind.”

Marinette stared at him, and then at his friend, and then at him again. She gulped. How could she have a conversation with him right now if she couldn’t handle him at a normal basis?

She was so screwed.

“So,” he continued, gesturing to his friend. “This is Penelope, the model I’ve told you about.” His hand then moved on Marinette. “Penelope, this is Marinette.”

Penelope extended her hand. “Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Marinette tried with all of her might to focus on her long eyelashes to stop herself from thinking about how Adrien was _next to her, breathing the same air as her, and dedicating part of his time to her._

“H-hi,” she said mechanically as she imitated the other girl. “The pleasure is, uh.. All mine.”

“Shall we sit?” Adrien asked, directing the two girl towards a little table situated just outside of the small café. He grabbed a chair, helping Penelope sitting down, and then moved onto doing the same thing to Marinette before settling down as well.

He was so nice. And also hot. And so, so nice.

Silence fell for a minute between the trio, only to be broken by Penelope’s soft giggle.

“I thought Adrien was exaggerating,” she eyed the boy, smiling. “But you _are_ quite shy.”

Marinette laughed. It was a nervous laugh of course, but it was easier than to actually answer her at all. Penelope wasn’t the problem, given another setting, she would have made friends with her quite easily; it was the fact that Adrien was sitting closer than 10 cm away from her that didn’t let her form any sort of coherent speech in her head.

“Marinette might be shy, but she is super talented,” Adrien broke in with his usual cheerful attitude. “You should have seen some of her work, it’s almost at the level of a professional. That’s why I think it would be awesome if you could model for her.”

“That depends,” Penelope put her hands under her chin, observing Marinette with interest. “I’d like to model for you too, but I have a couple of questions. For starters, how often would this be?”

Marinette got a hold of herself. Or better, she _tried_ to get a hold of herself. “W-well, I would need to take your measurements and work with you for the first couple of days after the design is done I suppose, but I r-really can’t tell. I’m not a professional, something might come up that would require me to ask you to help me some more.”

“Mmmh, I see, that’s understandable. But then, how much would I be paid?”

Marinette blinked. _Paid?_ She wanted to be paid? She couldn’t do that, she certainly didn’t have enough money to be paying a professional model.

“Ah,” Adrien interrupted. “I’m sorry Penelope, I kind of didn’t mention this to you. I was hoping you could do this, well… for free.”

“Oh,” Penelope’s expression was not outraged, there was sincere surprise and consideration into her eyes. “That makes things a bit more complicated...”

“Does it?” Adrien sounded worried now.

“It’s just…” there was sadness in the model’s voice, her eyebrows furrowing upwards. “I can’t promise that I will always be there to model for you, Marinette. If you won’t be paying me, that would mean me working for free and possibly taking away time from a photo shoot for which I am actually paid for. Of course, I wouldn’t mind that and that’s not always going to happen, but… I can’t take this kind of commitment when I know I probably won’t be able to help you.”

Marinette’s mouth closed in a thin line. She would have lied if she said that she wasn’t disappointed; the idea of having a professional modeling for her was something she had been looking forward to see.

“I… I understand,” she managed to say.

“I’m sorry,” Penelope apologised. “I really am.”

“No, it’s okay!” She continued. “You were nice enough to come and talk to me. You even sacrificed your break to do this. I’m already really grateful to you.”

Penelope’s chocolate eyes turned to Adrien, asking him for help. The girl was uncomfortable, as she probably felt guilty for saying no, but knew that there was no way she could have said yes to Marinette.

Adrien nodded to her, smiling kindly. “Marinette’s right, you already helped enough. Don’t worry too much, go back and get your makeup done. I’ll meet you later over there.”

The girl sighed, but eventually stood up. “Okay then.” She approached Marinette, taking her hand again. “It really was a pleasure to meet you, Marinette, I hope I can see you soon and maybe work together another time.”

“Sure!” Marinette said, trying to put a little of enthusiasm behind her words.

She watched Penelope leave, waving at them both as she disappeared behind the corner of the street she and Adrien had come from. She then proceeded to stare at her own feet, wondering what she would do now. She didn’t want to discard the idea of creating female designs, but she would have to do that eventually if she didn’t manage to find someone who could model for her.

“I’m sorry,” Adrien’s voice brought her back to reality. He looked distressed. “It’s my fault. I should have explained more in detail the situation to her, it was dumb of me not to do that.”

Marinette didn’t like what he was doing, blaming himself for something he had no control on. She tried to console him. “N-no, you… It’s not your fault! You tried to help me, and t-that’s more than enough!”

Adrien didn’t look too convinced, but still smiled at her. He took her hand, green orbs locking onto blue. “Don’t be sad, okay? Leave it to me.”

Marinette’s heart stopped, again. She stared at his lips, and wished for one day to try them on her own. What did they taste like? How soft were they, really?

“I will find a way to help you. I promise.”

* * *

Marinette hadn’t given much thought to what Adrien had told her. In fact, the following saturday, she was still depressed over how she would have to scrap her female designs ideas, doodling pointlessly on her notebook. Tikki was resting silently close to her, giving her space after having tried to console her more than once.

Marinette’s eyes rose from her desk as her mother knocked onto her door, peeking her head in. Her blue eyes darted to Tikki, only to see that she was already safely hidden.

“Yes, Mom?”

“Sweetie,” Sabine started. “There’s someone downstairs waiting for you, you should come down and greet them.”

Marinette rose from her chair, confused. She wasn’t expecting anybody today, but then again, it wasn’t unusual for Alya to show up at her place without telling her. Nevertheless, she was curious as she headed down with her mother, who sounded worried.

“Marinette, next time tell me when a friend is coming over, so I’ll prepare something for them to eat.”

“Mom, we live in a bakery,” Marinette pointed out as she laughed. “We are always _preparing something to eat.”_

“That’s true, honey,” Sabine agreed, heading now towards the little kitchen counter. “But it would be still nice to let me know beforehand, don’t you think?”

She nodded as she left the room, arriving in the bakery. Her eyes searched for someone she knew, but only found a girl she couldn’t recognise waiting patiently at the counter. She approached her, looking at her long, blonde hair and green eyes, as well as her broad shoulders and thin waist. She was quite tall, and was wearing a white, short dress with a military green jacket on top. She didn’t know the girl, and yet there was something familiar about her that she couldn’t explain.

She smiled at her. “Hello, how can I help you?”

The girl narrowed her eyes, long eyelashes fluttering as her pink lips curled up into a soft grin. “Hi Marinette!”

Something caused the named girl to stop in her tracks. The voice, that voice was weird. Not only it was very low and unfitting for her guest’s features, but she also seemed to recognise it from somewhere.

The girl suddenly laughed, and then Marinette _knew._

She had known that laugh for a long time. She had cherished and appreciated it to no end; never would she have expected to hear it from someone in high-heels and a dress.

“A-Adrien?”

The girl spinned on her heels, her skirt following her gently.

“At your service, Marinette!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, if you think that Adrien is not going to exploit this opportunity of dressing as a girl then you've got a big storm coming.  
> Seriously, some pretty incredible stuff is going to happen here! Get ready for some serious wtf moments, as well as Marinette's multiple breakdowns.
> 
> A couple of things to know about me:  
> \- I'm not a native English speaker  
> \- I'm really, REALLY lazy when it comes to writing  
> \- I usually don't even read my chapters twice before posting them
> 
> Please be merciful and let me know what you think of this!  
> Contact me on my tumblr if you want to have a chat! [naminamae.tumblr.com]


	2. Chapter 2

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was nice. She was so nice, in fact, that Adrien had taken it upon himself to help her. 

He had noticed how special the girl was after they had managed to get over their little argument the first day of school; he had seen her confidence, her everlasting, kind smile and her will to always help out her friends, fighting for what she thought was right. Few people had Marinette’s sensibility, and few had half the talent she displayed in her designs. Adrien was not lying when he said she could win his father’s competition: Marinette was artistically skilled, and had certainly the right attitude to work in a creative but stressful environment such as fashion. Nevertheless, he was worried. 

The girl was _ shy. _ Really, really shy. 

He had gotten used to her stress-induced clumsiness, or her stuttering, and knew that those were things she quickly got rid of once she warmed up to someone. While it hurt Adrien that she still acted like that around him, as it meant that she did not feel comfortable with him yet, he knew that this was something that could well be the end of her. He had observed the girl as she talked with Penelope, the friend who had volunteered to help Marinette, and he had realised that searching for other female models was simply not going to work for Marinette. Forcing her to work with people that she did not know was only going to bring stress to the aspiring designer, and she did not have time to waste in her awkwardness because of the approaching deadline of the competition. 

She needed a little push, and Adrien was more than happy to help her with that. 

It was with that thought in mind that, the following Friday afternoon, he had hesitantly picked up his phone. His fingers circled around a name in his contact list, someone he knew would not leave him alone if he attempted to call him. 

Plagg seemed to notice his uncertainty, and broke in from his desk with an annoyed sigh. “Listen kid, you already got enough on your plate. You don’t have to do this.”

“I kinda do, Plagg.” Adrien frowned, hands playing with his phone. “She needs help and it was my fault for not telling Penelope about the money that she had to refuse her offer.”

“Naaaah, it wasn't your fault if your friend Penelope had actually some  _ brain  _ and decided not to do something she could have been payed for for  _ free _ .” The kwami rolled lazily closer to a plate of cheese. “And it's too much trouble anyway. You have no time for this kind of stuff, the girl will be fine.”

The teen eyed him. “Something tells me that you think that  _ me not having enough time _ is going to affect your Camembert supply. Is that why you don't want me to do this?”

The black cat seemed to take offense to that, sitting now upright on the wooden desk. “Well, duh! You barely remember to get some from me now, just imagine if you decide to put an extra activity into your life!”

Adrien didn't mean to, but he rolled his eyes at him. He loved Plagg and thanked him daily for the powers he had given him, but he could be very selfish at times without even realising it. Even though he was a thousand years old deity, the kwami seemed to be clueless when it came to human emotions and interactions: he only understood cheese and his own tiredness.

“That's it, I'm calling him. Oh,” he made sure to put a bit of venom in his words, staring at the cat with mischievous eyes. “And you are getting liquified cheddar for a week.”

“WAIT, WHAT?” Plagg rose up to his feet, abandoning his beloved cheese. “You mean that liquid-ish mess that comes with that nachos crap?!”

Adrien’s phone was up to his ear, and he was very focused on ignoring the small deity. “It's ringing.” 

“KID, YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!”

Plagg darted towards his chosen, but was stopped in his tracks as a pillow was suddenly thrown at him, crushing him underneath its weight and silencing the little god for good. Someone picked up on the phone’s other end.

“ _ Blond-puff? How the hell did you manage to get yourself in trouble at 5 in the afternoon?” _

Adrien breathed in;  _ this was happening _ , he was actually doing it. He was going to regret this whole thing sooner or later, he knew as much, but it was too late to back up now.

“Hello to you too, Cesare.” There was a hint of sarcasm in Adrien’s voice, just enough for the man on the other side of the phone to notice. “Why do I need to be ‘in trouble’ to call you?”

_ “Because I left you my number with the precise instruction of calling me  _ only  _ in case of emergency,”  _ Adrien heard slurping sounds, as if Cesare was eating something as he spoke.  _ “I’m your make-up artist, not your teenage buddy. I’m not here to listen to your drama or love problems. I’ve been through that shit and I  _ do not _ want to be part of it again, blond-puff.” _

“But this  _ is _ an emergency! I mean, it’s not a life-threatening one, but it’s still really urgent!”

There was a moment of silence, probably because Cesare was thinking whether to give in to his request or not. Adrien knew he would, in the end; he was too pretty for him to say no. 

_ “...I’m a busy person, Adrien. It’s a Friday evening, I’ve got stuff to do.” _

Adrien was a little disappointed. He had expected him to give out relatively easily, but it seemed that he would have to get mean with him. He didn’t like that, but it was necessary; Cesare was not the kind of guy you could be nice to, he was lazy and sometimes needed more direct and tactless stuff like blackmail and humiliation to convince him to help out. Even if he didn’t look like he would, Adrien had  _ plenty _ of material to use to his advantage after 2 and a half years of working and getting acquainted with him. 

“Is that the _Game of Thrones’_ opening theme I hear in the background?” he raised an eyebrow. From underneath the pillow, Plagg blustered out laughing. “Is that your _‘busy Friday evening’_? Watching TV shows and eating ice cream?”

Adrien honestly didn’t know if Cesare was actually watching the show, he couldn’t hear anything apart from the slurping sounds, so he had merely guessed. He deduced he had been right by how the loud slurping suddenly stopped, accompanied by an outraged puff.

_ “Give me a break, kid! I am an adult, I do what I want!”  _

Plagg was still laughing his head off from beneath the pillow. Adrien guessed the thought of a 22 years-old gay man watching  _ Game of Thrones _ while eating ice cream on a Friday afternoon had made his day.

_ “What do you want, anyway?” _

Adrien figured that he had given in, and wanted to ask him immediately for Cesare’s help before he changed his mind, but the words didn’t come out of his mouth as easily as he had thought they would. His happiness was contrasted by a sudden feeling of uneasiness, almost fear. He was convinced that what he wanted to do was not wrong or weird, but saying it out loud to someone other than himself or Plagg was something that he hadn’t given too much thought to and wasn’t really ready for. He couldn’t waste time, however: he needed to help Marinette. He had gotten her into this mess, and he would have taken her out of it.

“Um, I...” he breathed in, trying to gather up all the courage within him. He thought of Marinette’s sad face as she watched Penelope leave the café on Wednesday. 

_ He would not allow her to feel like that again. _

“I need to turn into a woman by tomorrow afternoon! Please help me!”

 

* * *

  
  


There were many ways in which Marinette could have reacted to the cross-dressing, still very hot teenage-boy standing in front of her. She could have screamed at the top of her lungs, allowing her hands to reach up to her hair to pull it until it gave out, or maybe she could have ran upstairs, locking the door behind her as she called for someone to help her collect the last shards of her sanity. 

She was not going to do any of those things. Marinette simply stayed still, her eyes taking in the unsettling sight of the familiar green eyes against the fake eyelashes and thickened brows, her lips sealed in a tight line. 

This was not real. In no possible reality would the perfect, completely normal and definitely not into cross-dressing Adrien Agreste show up at her house while dressed up as a girl. It just wasn’t possible; if it had been Nino or some other boy in her class she might have laughed while doubting her own perception of what was real and what wasn’t, but with Adrien? No. Just no. He wasn’t the type; he was kind, sweet, and cared deeply about keeping his  _ masculine _ image up to the standards others wanted him to achieve due to his father’s job. Marinette blamed stress and overwork for giving her this over the top and scarily realistic dream she was having right now, and cursed her wild imagination. 

Dream-Adrien was still staring at her, however, now with his head slightly tilted to the side. He was still smiling, but seemed to be confused, or maybe waiting for Marinette to do something. 

Wasn’t Marinette supposed to wake up after having figured out that she was in a dream? Something like this had never happened to her, so she really wasn’t sure. Her only reference were the silly TV shows she used to watch when she was bored when she was still attending middle school: there the characters would pinch their arm in order to understand whether they were still asleep or not. The outcome of their choice was easily something that could be classified as embarrassing, but Marinette was feeling confident and decided to do the same, slowly bringing her hand to her left arm. 

_ It hurt _ . 

Marinette gasped, a sense of dread slowly taking over her as she felt her head getting lighter and lighter. She wasn’t dreaming: Adrien Agreste was right in front of her, dressed up as a really cute teenage girl. This was  _ real _ . 

How was she even supposed to react to this?

“Did you just… pinch your arm?”

Adrien’s voice hit her like a bus, and suddenly she wasn’t sure that her feet were standing still on the floor underneath her anymore. Adrien was in front of her, this was real and he was looking at her absurd reaction, which currently consisted in her slowly losing consciousness. Marinette didn’t know how else to react: was she going to insult him if she reacted too wildly? But then again, how could she avoid screaming over the fact that the hottest model of Paris, the classmate she had a crush on, was wearing a dress and had probably waxed his legs?

Green eyes narrowed, and Marinette felt Death coming to get her. She tried to talk, but all that she managed to produced were strangled weeps which only caused Adrien to look at her with more worry and confusion. 

_ The crossdressing boy thought she was weird. _ Great. Absolutely fantastic. 

She had to do something, she realised. Talking to him was out of the question, she had already understood she was going to self-combust if she ever tried to do that. She knew she had discarded the idea not so long ago, when her mind was still blissfully unaware of the reality of the situation, but running up to her room and hiding there for the rest of her life sounded amazing at the moment. 

So she did. Without even thinking twice, Marinette had turned on her heels with a speed that envied Chat when he was on all fours. She ignored Adrien’s attempt to call her, eyes closed as she literally dashed through the shop, going up the stairs to reach the living room and then went up the stairs to her room. She closed the trapdoor behind her and grabbed the armchair on the opposite side of the room as soon as she was inside, positioning it on top of the only entrance to her room to make sure that no one would come in.

“Marinette?” 

Tikki’s voice made Marinette jump out of her skin, and she fell on her butt. She noticed how her heart was beating too quickly for her comfort, and how she was ungracefully panting. 

_ Die. She wanted to die die die die. _

“Marinette, are you okay? What happened?” the kwami approached her, her little face now flying in front of Marinette’s with eyes full of worry.

She tried to answer her, she really did, but she didn’t even know where to begin and she was breathing too hard. 

“Okay,” Tikki continued. “Take deep breaths. You’ll tell me everything after you’ve calmed down, so there’s no rush.”

Marinette followed her friend’s advice, and tried to inhale as much air as she could with each breath. It took her a while, but she managed to get her breathing even again. 

Then she  _ exploded. _

“OHMYGODTIKKI!” The kwami was so startled that she instinctively distanced herself from the girl. “AdrienjustcamehereandhewascrossdressingandIdidn’tthinkitwasrea-”

“ _Adrien_ _what_...? Marinette, I don’t understand what you are saying!” Tikki interrupted.

The girl gulped down, starting over. “The friend that my mother came to tell me about… that was Adrien, but he was dressed up as a girl.” She took a shaky breath. “I freaked out and I basically ran up here leaving him downstairs and…  _ ugh _ , now he thinks I’m weird! And he probably hates me! And.. and I don’t even know how to face him without freaking out, and -!”

“Okay, okay,” Tikki put her little paw on her lips, hushing her. “I think I understood more or less what happened.” 

Marinette wanted to cry. She had ruined her relationship with Adrien forever now: she had ran away from him while he had greeted her with so much happiness and kindness, leaving him alone like an idiot in her own house even though he had come to visit her. There was no way of fixing things; she had destroyed the little closeness they had with her own two hands.

“Tikki,” she pleaded behind her hushing paw. “Please help me! What do I do? He’ll never forgive me!”

“What is there to do, Marinette?” the kwami asked as she freed her, allowing her to talk now.

The girl stared at her, not sure of what to say.

Tikki sighed. Marinette wondered whether she just seemed dense or whether she was actually really annoying to her. “You need to go downstairs and apologise to him.”

“But I can’t do that!” Marinette brought her hands to her face, despair written in her eyes. “I can’t even look at him, Tikki! He.. he  _ waxed his legs!  _ They are shiny and soft and just… what am I even supposed to do?!”

“Marinette, there is absolutely nothing wrong with what Adrien did. You are shocked, and I understand that, but you are only thinking about how  _ you  _ feel,” the little god sounded worried now. “Have you thought about how  _ Adrien  _ feels? About _ why  _ he might have showed up at your house dressed up as a girl?”

The girl’s eyes widened as she realised the implication of Tikki’s words. She had been selfish, thinking only about herself and not taking into consideration the way Adrien could have felt at all. Drowned in her own self-pity and idiocy, she had seemed to ignore his excited expression, his adorable impatience for her to approve of what he was doing or simply comment back on it in a way a  _ friend _ would have. 

How would have she felt if anyone had treated the same way she had treated him?

“What.. what did I do?! I’m so stupid!” the girl clapped her cheeks in anger. “ _ Stupid, stupid, stupid! _ ”

She found that she couldn’t stay still anymore. She stood up, now impatient to go and get Adrien from downstairs, and approached her trapdoor with exasperated haste. She had to hurry and apologise, fix what was eating her inside, if that was even still possible. There was a good chance, after all, that Adrien would not be willing to talk to her because of her extremely rude and  _ just plain stupid _ behaviour, but she liked to believe in Adrien’s perfect and kind nature. Of course, all of that would have been possible if he hadn’t left already. Marinette wouldn’t blame him if he had: she would have done the same if she had been in his position. But again, she was forgetting that the boy was literally an angel, someone who was impossible to anger, so there was still hope.

She saw Tikki flutter towards her desk as she started to move the armchair away from her trapdoor, and saw her lean against the framed picture of Adrien she kept there. Tikki had seemed serene, probably because she had realised she had done a good deed in making her owner realise she was hurting one of her closest friends, but Marinette didn’t keep her eyes on her for too long. She was too focused on the photo of the model, looking at his natural eyelashes and comparing them with the now long, fake ones he had chosen for meeting her, along with the subtle yet noticeable highlighter he had put on his eyelids and underneath his brows. 

It was in this way that she realised that Adrien was beautiful in both ways, either while he was his natural self or… whatever he was supposed to be right now. Regardless, the model always managed to take her breath away because of how unfairly gorgeous he was. 

Her hands finally lifted the trapdoor, and she descended quickly the stairs, only to stop in her tracks half-way down. 

Sitting at the kitchen table, her mother was laughing along with Adrien Agreste, currently cross-dressing in high-heels and a blonde wig. Now, Marinette was happy that her host had found himself somewhere comfortable where to stay while she was having her little mental breakdown, and figured that it had probably been her mother who had invited him upstairs after having seen - or better,  _ heard _ \- her dashing for her room, but that did not mean that the scene would not give her an aneurism. 

Had her mother noticed? Was she laughing because the thing amused her? And more importantly,  _ how the hell was she going to explain to her why her friend had decided to show up to her house in a dress? _

Marinette didn’t have time to try to answer any of those questions, however, as Adrien quickly spotted her. 

“Oh!” his green eyes lit up at her sight in delight. He didn’t seem to be mad at Marinette, which was a relief. “See, Madame Cheng? She didn’t take much after all!”

Her fingers digged in the railing of the staircase, shuddering at the realisation that Adrien’s voice was inexplicably higher and weirdly  _ feminine.  _ He hadn’t stopped pretending that he was a girl, then. Marinette didn’t know whether to feel bothered or relaxed by that. 

What troubled her most of all, however, was how good his girly voice was. In fact, it freaked her out how good his whole  _ turning-into-a-woman _ deal was: the makeup, the dress, the wig and the voice had all a practiced feel to them, as if Adrien had prepared everything with care.

Had he done this before?

Sabine turned around to meet her, putting down a cup of tea. Her smile was the same as usual, but there was something severe in her eyes, almost as if she was slightly disappointed. “Marinette, sweetheart, I’m glad you finished whatever you needed to do quickly enough for your friend Aria to not get bored with me.”

_ Her friend what, now? _

“Madame,” Adrien caught on, clasping his hands in concern. His movements were exaggerated, but decorated with noticeable elegance. It was almost as if he was trying to hide his own nervousness behind his fake femininity. “I was the one who talked the whole time. _ I  _ was the one who was worried about boring you! And besides, you provided such delicious tea and pastries to me,” he held a cookie up to prove his point. “How could I ever be bored?”

A sincere giggle escaped her mother’s mouth. “Aria, I am glad that you enjoyed my pastries as much as I enjoyed your company. You are such a polite young girl, and I’m so very thankful that you are helping my daughter in this competition.” Her glance left Adrien to fall on her. “But I do think that my daughter owes you an apology for leaving you so suddenly in the shop, especially with all these bags!”

Marinette hadn’t noticed the bags that were at Adrien’s feet. In her defense, she had been too busy gaping at her mother being charmed by the still very polite and cute Adrien Agreste, who had even re-named himself for the occasion. They weren’t that many and had names of different brands of them, but didn’t seem to be particularly heavy. 

“Marinette?” her mother addressed her again. “We are waiting.”

She gulped down, only to move her eyes onto Adrien. He was looking at her too, and hadn’t commented on the situation. Perhaps he was actually expecting an apology from her, and Marinette knew full well that he deserved one. She put aside all of her messy thoughts, and proceeded to ignore the dress, the high-heels, the makeup, and anything that could threaten her brain to start malfunctioning again. Adrien needed to hear an apology, she couldn’t be selfish and focus on her feelings again. 

She looked at him straight into his green orbs. “I’m s-sorry.” Courage was still not coming to her rescue her from her stuttering, but she did what she could to not sound too pathetic.

The boy seemed to be content with what he had gotten, however, and smiled in return. “No problem at all, hun.”

_ Yes, right. Hun. _ That  would get some time to get used to.

Her mother seemed to have forgiven her as well, and her expression had relaxed. “Would you like to join us?” she gestured to the teacups and the pastries on the table. “We were having a nice tea-party here.”

Marinette wanted to scream. No, she did not want to join them; every second she spent thinking about the fact that her cross-dressing friend was having tea and chit-chatting with her mother made her go a little more insane. She needed Adrien to leave and come somewhere with her so they could talk.

“No! I mean... My room?” God, she couldn’t even talk. She just smiled nervously, hoping that someone would eventually decipher whatever nonsense she was blurting out. “Upstairs, please?”

Adrien, as the saint that he was, understood what she wanted to say, and stood up, collecting his bags as he thanked her mother with his usual politeness. Marinette waited for him to come up to her room before shutting the trapdoor behind him. 

There was a moment of silence in the room: Marinette stared at him, and he stared at her. No one of the two knew what to say, she realised. Marinette was personally trying to figure out a way of distracting herself from how shiny and soft his legs’ skin looked, and Adrien.. he was probably embarrassed. 

“I can explain,” he offered as he brought up his hands defensively. His voice was normal now, and he had dropped the bags down. 

Marinette found that she wasn’t okay with that. She wanted him to explain himself of course, but she needed him to provide every piece of information little by little, giving her time to take everything in and process it.

“No. I ask, you answer.”

She wanted to die on the spot as she realised that she had resorted to having the vocabulary of a caveman, but managed to keep herself from collapsing on the floor of her room. 

Adrien interpreted once again her poorly constructed sentence, and raised his hands in sign of understanding and possibly defeat. 

There were many questions that were racing through her mind as she looked at her friend, some of them powerful enough to find their way to her tongue, making it tingle as if it desperately wanted to move and to make Marinette ask away. She couldn’t make sense of her own thoughts just like usual, but one question managed to push its way through.

“ _ Aria? _ ”

Okay, maybe it more of a single word than a question, but Marinette accepted it regardless, and so did Adrien. He probably understood why she had asked that first: it wasn’t everyday that your classmate decided to give themselves a new name.

“Your mother asked my name when she came to check on me after you were gone. I… I had to come up with something, and a friend suggested that one to me and...” his hands were still raised in the air, as if he was trying to put a certain distance between himself and Marinette. His previous joy was gone, and he sounded quite nervous. “I don’t know.  _ Aria, Adrien…  _ they’re kinda similar in a way?”

No, no they weren’t. Not at all. 

Marinette knew that she didn’t have the luxury of questioning logic anymore; if she did, she would have gone insane a long time ago. And besides, there were more important matters at hand.

“Your…  _ friend?” _

The word seemed to get a reaction from Adrien. His shoulder tensed, and his expression shifted to annoyance for a split second, something that Marinette had never seen coming from him.

“Um.. yeah. I asked my  _ friend  _ for some help. I…” he gestured to his whole outfit. “This is the first time I do this. It’s actually pretty comfortable to be in and… I like it, I guess? I know that I need to still work on some parts of it, but it’s not too bad of a start.”

She was not going to tell him that his cross-dressing was so good that it had nearly fooled her, and that she wouldn’t have recognised him if she didn’t have the chance to see him at school every day. Marinette didn’t feel it was appropriate to encourage him just yet.

“I didn’t need his help for everything, though. After a couple of YouTube videos I understood the whole makeup thing, and I got the clothes on my own. And… I practiced walking on heels, too!”

A smile escaped his lips, and Marinette realised that, despite his own attempts to hide it, Adrien was actually really proud of what he had accomplished. It must have required some work and planning, and a whole lot of good force of will, especially to get in those heels. 

_ And she was still treating him like dirt.  _

It was unacceptable. She had to stop being so freaked out, she had to stop acting in a way that made the blond feel bad to the point that he was making excuses for himself. Tikki was right,  _ there was nothing wrong with what Adrien was doing.  _ Yes, it was unusual, and so? She put on a skin-tight, polka suit and threw herself off buildings on her spare time, she really wasn’t in the place to judge someone whose “weird” activity was harmless if compared to hers. 

She tried to chuckle, trying to pretend that she had found his joke funny. It had to sound forced, because Adrien was looking at her with a puzzled expression.

She cleared her throat, unsure of what to say. She figured that asking more about his outfit was probably a way to put the boy more at ease.

“You the shoes got too?” screw her stuttering, honestly. “I mean, you got the shoes too?”

“Yeah, chose them on my own,” Adrien nodded, his eyes clear from his previous uncertainty. “I  _ love _ them.”

“H-huh, I see. Nice.”

“And I  _ absolutely love _ the dress, too. Kinda a shame that I couldn’t show you how pretty the embroidery of the decolté is right away,” his hands reached down, playing with the edges of the white skirt. “But I couldn’t remember how to put a bra on, so I had to to wear a jacket over it, and I’m too ashamed to take it off because it looks kinda weird without it. I’m flat after all.”

Marinette felt what was left of her self-control shatter like glass. 

“A  _ bra?!” _

The word had left her mouth before she could think of the consequences of her sudden outburst. She wanted to punch herself in the face as she saw Adrien suddenly becoming embarrassed, head now hiding between his shoulders as he struggled to keep his gaze in line with her own. 

“Yeah, I, uh, I kinda have to wear one. Or at least I should if I want to be credible. I don’t have boobs,” his hands started to travel towards his chest area, but he decided against it while they were halfway there. “I have to.. aah,  _ fake them _ if I want to look like a girl.”

She didn’t know how to answer to that. What he was saying made perfect sense, but it just… didn’t sound right, and she was terrified that he would understand that she thought that if she tried to speak. Why couldn’t she help but be a heartless jerk all of a sudden? Was it the shock?

“I’ll just... show you,” Adrien continued. He reached for one of his bags, pulling out two strange-looking objects after a quick search. 

She couldn’t quite understand what they were: they were crescent-shaped, transparent, and quite thick, but also elastic, as they had molded into the shape of Adrien’s hands. 

“These are regular size. C cups, I think?” he explained. 

Oh. 

Those were silicon cups.

_ Those were silicon cups,  _ those things you were supposed to put in your bra to make your boobs look bigger, or, in Adrien’s case, to make them up completely. 

Marinette was speechless. She couldn’t even think of how he had found such a thing, let alone how he had figured out how they worked. Well, it did seem that the boy was at least a little confused, since he had already admitted that he hadn’t been able to put on a bra and that he believed that a C cup was a regular cup size. Seriously, Marinette had recently reached the B cup status, she was not going to let some clueless guy intimidate her, even if that clueless guy was  _ Adrien Agreste. _

She told herself to be positive and take a deep breath, not for herself, but for her friend’s sake.

She had to get to the bottom of this. As of now, Adrien was just blurting out random things that did not help her make sense of the situation. She knew she had to ask him directly his reasoning if she wanted to be at peace with herself and calm down, being in this way able to talk with her friend without being involuntarily rude. 

“Adrien,” she started almost in a whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

He stared at her.

“I just… This must have taken a lot of work. D-did you just want to show it to me?”

“Wait,” the blond seemed surprised, and Marinette had the impression that he had almost made the silicon cups slip from his grasp. “You mean that you didn’t know?”

_ Should she? _

“Know what?”

Relief washed over Adrien’s face. “Then you were confused, not mad?” he sighed, relaxing his shoulders. “I thought you heard what your mother said and figured it out, you honestly had me so worried for a moment there...”

Marinette still couldn’t follow. He seemed to get that. 

“Nevermind, that doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here to help you, Marinette.”

That really hadn’t helped her understanding any better. “ _ Help _ me…?”

“Yeah!” the boy nodded, now sounding more enthusiastic. “I’m going to help you win the competition!”

She felt really dumb, all she could do was stare back at him with clueless eyes. 

He tilted his head back, allowing his hand to run through his fake, long hair before resting confidently on his chest. He gave her a grin that Marinette found strangely familiar. “I’m your  _ brand _ new female model, willing to work for free and to do my best to be worthy of wearing your awesome designs!”

Marinette choked on thin air. Her eyes widened in absolute surprise, and she was at loss regarding how to react. Not like she could have, anyway; her body was completely still, and the only signals of life were coming from the involuntary twitching of her eyelid or mouth. 

It made sense, now. Sweet, caring Adrien had decided to put himself into a dress and wear a wig to help her because he felt guilty of the fact that he hadn’t found her a female model to work with. He had put himself through all that work, teaching himself how to put on makeup and walking on high heels,  _ just for her _ . It was so sweet, but also just so… stupid. 

_ She loved him so much.  _

Hence why she could not let him do this to himself. 

“A-a-a-a-drien!” her stuttering was back, stronger than ever. “This is really nice, but it’s not necessary! You don’t have to do this!”

“ _ Yes I do _ ,” he argued back. “The competition is in what, two months? You need all the help that you can get, Marinette, and I want to help!”

“I’m only going to do male designs, you don’t need to-”

“I told you already, you should have both female and male designs if you want to leave a good impression on the judges, please don’t throw away that option!”

The fact that he had interrupted her had hit a nerve on Marinette. She suddenly felt frustrated at his willingness to help, almost as if he believed that she was a lost cause and couldn’t hope to win without him. 

“Let me explain what I have in mind,” he continued. “I just want to help.”

“I  _ don’t want you to help _ , okay?” she snapped. “I will be fine on my own and you don’t need to do this at all!”

Even through her anger, Marinette could see the impact her words had on Adrien. The boy shifted, hurt by her sudden outburst. His eyes narrowed as he thought of something to say back to her, but found himself at a loss for words. 

Marinette had realised her mistake, but was too angry to apologise at the moment. She knew that Adrien’s suggestions were heartfelt and had been spoken in a soft, caring way if compared to how she had shouted at him, but she needed to calm down before being able to recognise her own mistake. She still felt sorry of course, but couldn’t do anything about it. 

The boy’s eyes traveled towards the bags scattered across the floor, and her eyes did the same. 

“You should have told me that 500 euros ago,” he said in a derogatory laugh directed at nobody in particular. 

That managed to land a blow on her. Surprise made its way again in her turmoil of emotions, and she found herself wondering with what idea in mind the boy had selected every piece of clothing in those bags. She imagined him picking them with care, a silly smile on his lips, excitement and wonder in his eyes. 

He started gathering his belongings, probably convinced to leave her apartment, but stopped in the middle of his task. He faced her again, determined. 

“You know what?” there wasn’t anger in his voice, just.. disappointment. “Even if you  _ had _ told me sooner, nothing would have changed. I would have still bought everything, because I promised that I would help you. So go ahead, scream at me all you want. I’m not getting out of here until you let me help you in some sort of way. And after that... you are free to do whatever you want.” 

Her anger dissipated, and she realised just how much of a jerk she had been. Even after her inexcusable behaviour, Adrien was still willing to help her. He was able to put aside his feelings and do what he had promised because he cared and did not want to leave without knowing that he had done everything in his power to see her succeed. He believed in her so much that he wanted to see her win. 

Marinette’s cheeks reddened, and her eyes got watery. She wanted to scream. 

How could one boy be so nice? How was it humanly possible?

“I’m… I’m sorry,” it was the second time that she apologised in the span of an afternoon. Marinette felt awful. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that. I was just… overwhelmed. I didn’t think about what I was saying.”

Adrien reaffirmed his godly patience as he sighed, only to smile reassuringly at her shortly after. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it, and it’s also my fault. There are a couple of things I could have said better, and I could have warned about all of  _ this _ in a different way.”

_ He shouldn’t apologise! _ He hadn’t done anything wrong and he made Marinette feel miserable for that.

There was only a way she could fix things. 

“Are you…” she began, still embarrassed by her own behaviour. “Are you still willing to talk to me about what you had in mind?”

“Only if you are willing to listen,” he said with a wink. 

That sent her straight to paradise. “O-of course I am!!”

“Okay then,” he approached his bags again, gesturing for her to get closer to him. 

Marinette eyed with amusement the differently sized silicon cups that Adrien held in his arms.

_ “What size do you want me to be?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GEEZ THESE TWO KIDS ARE SHY AND SHOULD MAYBE CHILL A LITTLE. Don’t worry, they will warm up to each other pretty quickly, but one is a dork who believes that Marinette hates him and is terrified of her judgement even though he wants to help her so badly, and the other is just too focused on not fucking everything up because pretty model boy makes her go insane. 
> 
> The only reason why I introduced Cesare is because Adrien needs someone to help him, and that can’t be Nino as it usually is in this kind of story. Cesare will be a minor character, hence why I didn’t even bother putting the OC tag, even though I will make some more OCs appear later on since we’ll meet some more people from the fashion world. But I gotta say, his interaction with Adrien was pretty fun to write!
> 
> While this story can be considered a Princess Jellyfish AU, it will follow independent plotlines. I only called it an AU because I was inspired heavily by Princess Jellyfish and giving it credit is only fair, so expect a lot of new stuff happening here!
> 
> Be afraid of what this will become, because I’m NOT holding back. My inner weeb is going all out, so expect some anime crap to happen here.
> 
> Alas, if I had to chose a song to be the soundtrack of this story, it would be this weeb trash right here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ze8xBUk-2qU
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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